


Ain't No God Where We're From, Darling

by PastelClark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ...I'm so ashamed to tag that but it's true?, Help, I guess???, I'm so sorry, Lance & Pidge & Hunk are blackened cinnamon rolls, M/M, References To Rape/Torture, Serial Killer Hunk, Serial Killer Lance, Serial Killer Pidge, Serial Killers AU, Shance Week 2016: Hero/Villain, blatant descriptions of torture/murder, ex-soldier Shiro, highkey inspired by Suicide Squad, just Lance blatantly propositioning Shiro, no smut sorry, shady military agent Allura, this is dark as hell yo, what is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelClark/pseuds/PastelClark
Summary: “You want to release a group of the world’s worst criminals, complete with weapons, and try to get them to work for us.” Idly, Shiro wonders if he’d accidentally ingested a hallucinogen earlier in the day. It wouldn’t be the first time. “No,” Allura’s voice is disturbingly calm. “I want to temporarily let out a group of incarcerated people I think could be useful for us, under heavy supervision.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This. Was a mistake.

Allura is probably the craziest person Shiro has ever met.

 

And, all things considered, that’s saying something. Shiro, at the ripe old age of twenty-four and three months, has seen more than his fair share of shit—between being recruited out of military school at nineteen for an elite covert-operations program, having his arm blown off less than a year later during a mission, subsequently being outfitted with an experimental one-of-a-kind military-grade prosthetic, and being abducted into a shady secret governmental organization right after that, that’s par for the course.

 

Basically, Shiro’s lived a pretty _eventful_ life.

 

But Allura’s particular brand of “genius” insanity trumps it all easily.

 

“…I’m sorry, _what?"_ is all he manages to get out, staring at her in disbelief from across the table where they’re sitting, in one of the many soundproofed briefing rooms in program Altea’s headquarters.

 

“An experiment,” Allura says easily, not even missing a beat. “A sort of…rogue operations team for dire situations, I suppose. I’m thinking about calling it Voltron, it’s catchy.”

 

“You want to release a group of the world’s worst criminals, complete with weapons, and try to get them to work for us.” Idly, Shiro wonders if he’d accidentally ingested a hallucinogen earlier in the day. It wouldn’t be the first time.

 

“No,” Allura’s voice is disturbingly calm. “I want to temporarily let out a group of incarcerated people I think could be useful for us, under heavy supervision.” Shiro gapes, and she sighs. “Things are changing, Shiro. I know it, and so do you. The movements of the Galra are getting harder and harder to predict—regular military troops weren’t enough, the so-called _specialized teams_ were…” Her eyes flicker momentarily to Shiro’s prosthetic. “Unsuccessful. Altea is the best shot we have at keeping them at bay, and even we’re flailing in the water without a life jacket. Desperate times, desperate measures.”

 

Shiro winces. She has a point, that much he can admit. Ever since the Galra first landed on earth, humanity had been fighting a war they couldn’t hope to win, and more soldiers just kept coming. Shiro honestly has no idea what they’d do if some giant warship came through the earth’s atmosphere instead of the usual mid-sized ships of soldiers they’d seen thus far.

 

Still…

 

“…Who exactly are we talking about here?”

 

Allura grins as she slides over the stack of folders on the table to him, tapping the top one cheerfully. Opening it, Shiro pales in recognition.

 

He’d suspected as much, but he’d severely hoped otherwise.

 

“…The paladins.”

 

“Yes. Three of the most depraved, sadistic, and, ultimately, _brilliant_ criminals of our time.” Nodding to the folder Shiro already has open, Allura continues. “Katelyn ‘Katie’ Holt, aka Pidge Gunderson. Commonly called Green by the news media, as I’m sure you remember. She’s a genius hacker and inventor—unparalleled by any person or machine.” Allura pauses, reaching out to point out an article clipping in the folder. “Reports indicate she was a normal, albeit incredibly intelligent child. However, when she lost her father and brother in a Galra attack at thirteen, fell apart. Samuel and Matthew Holt were military engineers who were abandoned by their protective detail during the attack. After discovering this, Katie went on rampage, breaking into military databases to gather information on the soldiers who had been assigned to her family. For months she made their lives hell, stalking them, hacking into all their personal accounts, and generally terrorizing them through just a computer screen. In the end, she lured the men to a warehouse where she tortured and killed them with machines and devices she’d built herself.” Allura looks up at Shiro, eyes like steel. “She was fourteen.”

 

Shiro shivers.

 

“After that, she disappeared, assuming the name Pidge Gunderson and living under the radar as a young boy, but she never stopped killing. She’s vicious, leery of authority, downright homicidal to military personnel, and obsessed with knowledge. She stalks, she hacks, she tortures, and she kills, all of them military and government officials. As far as we know, none of these killings were under payment for someone else, they were simply out of revenge or…boredom.” Allura taps the photo of a gruesome crime scene. “She likes taking bodies apart, seems to enjoy figuring out how they work. We finally got her about three months ago, but she still managed a near three year killing spree.”

 

Shiro scans the file, feeling sick to her stomach. “…She’s sixteen, Allura. She’s—she’s just a _kid_.”

 

Allura shrugs. “No, she’s a serial killer. What you’re looking at there? That’s not Katie Holt. Katie Holt died with her family. All that’s left is Pidge, or Green. Whichever you want to call her.”

 

Shiro nods shakily, and Allura smiles, gesturing to the file below Pidge’s, which Shiro hesitantly slides out and opens. “Hercules 'Hunk' Garrett. Yellow. Engineer, genius, murderer. His family abandoned him during a Galra attack when he was a child, and he was taken in by the Balmera family. When he was fifteen, a group of what are commonly referred to as ‘white-purity apocalypse supremacists’ kidnapped him and his adoptive sister, Shay. The two were held and tortured for over thirty-six hours before the police found them. The trauma of it all was too much for the girl, she hung herself a year later, and Hunk broke. He fled his home and…well, we don’t really know how, but he found the Blue Paladin, who for whatever reason agreed to help him hunt down the men who tortured his sister and the police who failed to find them fast enough.” Allura coughs. “After that, he considered himself in the debt of Blue, and stayed with him. Since then, he’s been with Blue through every robbery, every terrorization, every killing spree. He’s smart, incredibly strong, a monster with the massive shooter he built himself, and intensely dedicated to Blue, and Blue only. Win over Blue, and you have Hunk too.”

 

“Got it,” Shiro chokes out, and Allura all but beams.

 

“And last but not least, the man of the hour himself.” She reaches across the desk and flips the folder open herself. “The infamous Blue Paladin. Otherwise known as Lance McClain, or Alexander Sanchez, or Layna Paloma, or a hundred other things. He’s a master of stealth and performing multiple identities. He can impersonate either man or woman with no trouble, no suspicion, fluid in his behavior, which makes him impossible to pin down and dangerous as hell.”

 

Shiro swallows nervously, leaning over to gaze at the series of photos of alluring blue eyes and tan skin, long legs and brown curls. Allura’s right. While next to each other Shiro might at least guess the people in the photos are _related_ if not the same person, the photos of Lance with long hair and bright red lipstick look just as natural as the ones of him with short hair and chapped lips, and even between two photos of him dressed as a man or a woman, the looks are somehow incredibly different. One thing that is consistent, Shiro notices with a nervous lurch in his stomach, is that Lance is blindingly, overwhelmingly attractive, in all the photos. He’s young looking, too, and idly Shiro notes the birthdate on the file that indicates Lance is a nineteen to Hunk’s twenty and Pidge’s sixteen going on seventeen.

 

“Lance and his family were abducted when he was a child during one of the first Galra attacks,” Allura says quietly. “Back when they more commonly took human hostages. His parents disappeared, assumedly to an off-earth Galra work camp, and Lance and his sisters were kept as experiments.” She sneers. “We have limited data on what went on there, what _still_ goes on there, but as far as we can figure, they were trying to figure out how to reprogram humans to serve as Galran spies. Children were easier to wipe of their morals and inhibitions, to be taught to be Galra, so they were the obvious candidates. Lance was raised as a Galra soldier from childhood. He knows their tactics, their weapons, and has all of their fighting prowess. We still don’t know why he turned on them, but the first time he was brought to Earth to fight, he killed his squad and fled. He doesn’t seem to have any affection for the Galra, but he has no loyalties or compassion for humans either. He does what pleases him, to put it best. He’s deceptive, incredibly clever, and a sadistic narcissist. No one, except maybe Hunk, knows what’s going on under that head—don’t let his shallow performance fool you, every moment of acting is a moment of him analyzing you.” Allura sighs. “Anyways, I’m sure you get the rest. He looks out for number one—kills galra and humans who upset him without hesitation, works as an assassin for the right money, and takes what he wants. He could fire at you with a regular pistol from a sniper’s range and he’d still hit you.”

 

“…And you want to set him, and the other two, on the Galra,” Shiro finishes.

 

Yep, crazy. Allura’s crazy.

 

Allura tilts her head in acknowledgement. “Our only advantage is that none of them like the Galra. They’re not exactly going to be hesitant to kill them. And while they might normally refuse to work in a random team, we already know they’ll work together from the mayhem spree the three went on together that gave them their nicknames just before their capture. For whatever reason, they have some level of loyalty to one another, and loyalty can’t be bought.”

 

“And they’re also serial killers who, as you put it, have no interest in helping any other humans.” Shiro leans back in his chair and raises an eyebrow. “How exactly do you plan to control them?”

 

Allura smiles, grin sharp. “Simple. I’m going to put you in charge of them.”

 

 

xxx

 

 

“This is crazy,” Keith mutters from across the elevator to Shiro, and he winces in reply, offering Keith a guilty smile.

 

He’d been less than enthusiastic to accept Allura’s…suggestion, but he knows by now an order from Allura is not a question in any way. She may be nice enough to him at times, but she is still his boss, and if Shiro values his job, and his head, he does what she says.

 

And so after Allura had dismissed him from their meeting, Shiro had taken the folders back to his room in Altea headquarters and poured over them, desperately trying to gleam some way he might become a handler of sorts to three of the most dangerous people on the planet.

 

His only lucky break was that he had been allowed to select another agent to join him in this endeavor, and he’d jumped at the chance to have Keith. Shiro had known the other man for years, having been at the same military school together before Shiro had been recruited to his old team, re-meeting after losing contact for over a year at Altea, where, it turned out, Keith had been employed since he was sixteen.

 

They’d quickly caught up, and Shiro had come to value their relationship on a new level. Keith was a good friend, and Shiro had come to look at him as something like a little brother. (Not that he’d ever tell Keith that, he’d never let him live it down.)

 

Shiro hadn’t planned to force Keith into this crazy scheme, only meant to ask, but, despite his incessant complaining, Keith had agreed right away.

 

“Allura’s orders, Keith.”

 

“I know, I know,” Keith mutters, rolling his eyes. “That still doesn’t mean I have to like it. Is she even _aware_ of the things these people can do?”

 

Shiro shrugs amicably. “She seemed well-informed to me.”

 

Keith scowls, looking off to the side. “I was part of the team that helped finally bring McClain and Garrett in, after Holt’s capture. I’ve seen first-hand what they’re like, and if you ask me it’s safe for all of us if we just shoot them and be done with it.”

 

_“Keith.”_

 

“I’m just not keen on letting McClain and his psycho friends out on the loose, alright!” Keith snaps, throwing his arms up, and Shiro sighs.

 

“Let’s just see if we can even get them to talk to us, yeah? One step at a time.”

 

Keith grunts in agreement as the elevator slows to a stop in its descent, opening up to a gloomy looking room save for one man dressed in a bright blue combat suit and sporting a large orange mustache who perks up upon spotting them, rapidly hurrying over.

 

“Hello, hello! You must be Shiro and… Keith, was it?” Keith crosses his arms and Shiro sighs, accepting the proffered hand from the other man and shaking it.

 

“Yes, I’m Shiro and that’s Keith. It’s nice to meet you, uh…”

 

“Coran!” the other says cheerfully. “I’m the sort of head-warden around here! I’m in charge of everything to do with the paladins. For safety they have their own ward, so it takes a lot of work just to keep things running for the three of them!”

 

Keith blinks. “They have their own ward…in a maximum security facility.”

 

“Their own floor, actually! Officially, this section of the building doesn’t exist!”

 

Keith pales, glancing desperately at Shiro, who chuckles nervously. Coran, not seeming to notice their reactions, turns and waves over his shoulder for them to follow. “C’mon then, I’ll take you to meet the paladins!”

 

Coran keeps up idle chatter as he walks them through the hallways, happily blabbering on about the security systems and facilities built into the floor while Shiro and Keith trail awkwardly behind him, casting nervous looks at each other every few moments. Eventually, as they seem to near a stopping point, Shiro takes the chance to interrupt. “Um. Coran?”

 

“Yes, my boy! What is it?”

 

“What would you…” Shiro hesitates. “You’ve been here a while, right?”

 

“Since the paladins were first brought here!” Coran beams.

 

“Right, so, you must know them pretty well…”

 

“I suppose so, yes,” Coran says, scratching at his chin. “As much as one can, at any rate. It’s not exactly like having a chat with a coworker, you know.”

 

Shiro snorts quietly, getting a scathing look from Keith. “No, I ah, I suppose not. What I meant was—what are they like? Who would you recommend approaching first?”

 

Coran lights up, looking immensely proud as if Shiro had passed some test by asking the right questions. “Well, little Pidge is quite quiet, reserved. She talks mostly to herself, or to her brother. I think she fancies his soul is watching over her, poor dear.”

 

Keith scowls. “ _Poor dear?_ We’re talking about a serial killer here.”

 

Coran visibly hesitates. “Yes, well. I know, but she’s…had a very difficult life. That doesn’t excuse some of the things she’s done, same for the boys, but it’s not simply cut and dry for them. In many ways they’re still much like children.”

 

Shiro blinks, looking away from Coran as he remembers the old photos of small children tucked into the folders on the paladins, amidst article clippings and notes. He’d studied those folders till he knew every scrap of information contained within them, and while he thinks Coran has an odd way of talking about the paladins, he supposes he can understand where he’s coming from. Altea only has limited information on the paladins’ pasts, but even that indicated none of them had exactly led pleasant childhoods.

 

…Then again, as Keith often pointed out, a shitty childhood doesn’t excuse one’s actions as an adult.

 

Though, Shiro supposes, much of the crimes the three committed would have been when they were minors. Hell, Pidge still was.

 

“So…not Pidge first, then.” Shiro says, trying to right the conversation once more.

 

“Er, no.” Coran nods. “You wouldn’t be likely to get anywhere. She doesn’t talk to the guards at all. The only people she’ll talk to are Hunk and Lance when the three of them are given their supervised _socialization_ breaks. You’d have more luck approaching her through one of them.”

 

“Alright, got that much. What about Hunk and Lance?”

 

Coan hums, tilting his head. “Hunk is friendly enough. Always polite enough to me, and very enthusiastic about food, loves to talk about it. But, he follows Lance’s lead. He’s not going to agree to anything unless Lance has given his approval first. In that sense, Lance is your best bet to talk to. He likes conversation, gets bored I think, so he’ll definitely at least be willing to listen for a while. Convince him to hear you out properly, and he’s your ticket to Pidge and Hunk.”

 

Inside, Shiro’s stomach lurches at the memory of photos of large blue eyes and records of different aliases, and he quietly shoves down the trail of thought before it can continue.

 

 _He’s a performer, don’t let him play you,_ Allura’s voice echoes in his mind.

 

“…Lance it is, then,” Shiro says reluctantly.

 

 

xxx

 

 

Due to the usual containment measures put into place with the paladins, Shiro and Keith have to wait while Lance is moved to an _open communications_ container from his regular cell, which from what Shiro can grasp from Coran’s chatter is a small room with solid brick on three sides and a heavy metal door with three different locks on it. Shiro’s seen his fair share of maximum security cells, but the descriptions of the paladin’s various containment units send shivers down his spine. He knows of captured Galra under less security than these three.

 

The cell Lance is moved to is more of a cage—thick metal bars on all sides rising up from the floor to create a wide square pen where Lance rests, knees hooked over one of the support bars along the top of the cage and idly dangling upside down, swinging back and forth and trailing his fingers along the ground below him.

 

“We originally tried glass the first time but he really didn’t like that,” Coran says from next to Shiro in the one-way viewing room they stand in, watching Lance in his cage in the larger interrogation room next door. “I think not being able to climb bothered him, he kept bashing his head against the walls trying to break the glass. Once we changed him to a bar-container he perked up considerably. His usual cell also has some bars and the like put in, and it seems to keep him happy. He’s a real monkey, that boy.”

 

Keith scowls, and Shiro knows he’s thinking that prisoners don’t deserve accommodations like that, but personally he can see where Coran might be coming from. The paladins are more useful to them alive and well if this is going to work, and given Allura’s plans, it’s likely she’s had this on the backburner from the beginning. It’d make sense for her to order to do what was necessary to keep the paladins relatively calm and docile, and Shiro has no doubt everything here is under her direct orders.

 

Taking one last glance at Lance, who, while having shorter-cropped hair than many of the photos of him, is definitely the same person as the one in the file, Shiro exhales once slowly, nodding to Keith. “Let’s do this, then.”

 

Lance perks up the moment they open the door and enter the room, focusing in on Keith and Shiro with wide eyes that quickly narrow for a moment, before he blinks and resumes his previously casual attitude, eyes trained on the ceiling as he rocks back and forth, fingers walking along the ground.

 

Shiro balks at the display. Allura wasn’t kidding when she described his deception levels. It had taken Lance less than a second to resume an incredibly convincing casual display.

 

Carefully, with Keith trailing a step behind him, Shiro comes to a stop just before the line meant to designate the safe perimeter outside Lance’s cage, where his arms or legs can’t reach. Lance doesn’t even blink, still looking at the ceiling.

 

“Hello,” Shiro starts awkwardly. “I’m—“

 

“Takashi Shirogane,” Lance drawls, voice lilting yet bored at the same time. “I’ve seen photos of you in Pidge’s old notes. You work for lovely Allura, don’t you? Tell the pretty lady I said hello, she never comes to visit me anymore.” Lance pouts visibly.

 

Keith growls. “Not going to happen, McClain.”

 

At that Lance’s casual expression tenses, morphing into something cruel and dangerous. Swinging up and unhooking his knees from the bar, Lance drops to the floor and stalks to the corner of the cage closest to Keith, hands gripping the bars and glowering at him. “I wasn’t talking to you, _Kogane_.” His eyes flicker back to Shiro, and his whole demeanor changes, playful posture and voice back again. “I’m happy to talk to you though, darling.” Lance’s voice is a purr that settles heavily in Shiro’s chest.

 

Shiro coughs. “Do you know why we’re here?”

 

“Hmm, well.” Lance sidles up closer to him, hands curling loosely around the bars and eyes lidded. “I imagine Allura wants something from me? Or us. Pidge won’t talk to military period and Hunk tends to follow my lead, so if you wanted a way to all three of us, I’d be the obvious candidate.”

 

Next to him, Keith stiffens, and Shiro feels much like doing the same, only years of military training allowing him to keep his responses in check. Despite his causal attitude for the most part, Lance had in a matter of minutes read why they were here without so much as a clue from them.

 

“So you know we wouldn’t be here if there was another option,” Keith says, voice tight with anger. “Captain Allura sent us with a proposition, and not one you’re in a position to refuse, so you’d better shut up and listen.”

 

Lance glares, sticking his tongue out at Keith. “Not to you, I won’t. You’re a meany. Don’t think I have forgotten that you broke Pidge’s favorite electric grappling line, she was so upset about that.” He turns back to Shiro, jaw set with a kind of stubbornness that Shiro is most familiar with seeing in Keith. “Make him leave, or I’m not talking to anyone.”

 

Shiro sighs. “Keith, leave.”

 

“What?! Are you _serious?”_

“I said _leave,_ ” Shiro says firmly, keeping himself facing Lance even as he watches Keith slink out of the room out of the corner of his eye. “Ok, he’s gone. Happy now?”

 

“Very,” Lance purrs, stepping back and pulling himself back up onto the bar he was hanging from earlier with lithe grace. “So, tell me about yourself, handsome.”

 

“…Excuse me?”

 

“C’mon, don’t be like that!” Lance says, pouting. “I know about your military past from Pidge’s files, but that isn’t all there is to a person! I’m curious!” He smirks, biting his bottom lip. “ _You_ make me curious. I’ve seen photos of you before, but they don’t do you justice.” His eyes roam pointedly over Shiro’s body, settling on his crotch. “Especially…certain parts.”

 

Shiro flushes darkly, ignoring the heat the courses through him at Lance’s downright _hungry_ look. “We’re not here to talk about my personal life, or my…body.”

 

“Mmm…shame. You’ve got a lot going for you. But…I suppose you’re right. Haven’t any lube here, and I’ve learned first-hand that I should not stick things in my ass dry.” Lance sighs, the blatant lust that had been present in his demeanor vanishing instantly with a cool professionalism that leaves Shiro reeling. “So, what does Allura want?”

 

Shivering, Shiro shakes off the mix of embarrassment and, disturbingly enough, arousal he feels at Lance’s words, trying to pull his attention back to why he’s _actually_ here. “Allura wants you and the other paladins to work for us to fight the Galra.”

 

Lance blinks, an astonished laugh escaping him. “…You’re serious? You want to let us out in the open under the assumption we won’t turn on you the moment you do?”

 

“Yes.” Shiro says. “We do, and we _know_ you won’t turn on us.”

 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

 

“Remember that injection you were given this morning? The one in your neck?” Lance pales, and Shiro smirks. “It’s a neurotoxin capsule, fast acting and without a cure. If activated, you’re dead within half a minute, and the people with that activation key?” Shiro holds up the small tablet in his hand. “Myself and Allura. Even if you killed me, Allura would get a notification the minute my bio signs went dead and would take you out just as fast.”

 

Lance whistles, looking oddly…pleased. “Well played, tiger. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Still…Allura values our lives, which means those capsules are only for an emergency, meaning if I refuse you can’t blackmail me with it. So, you’re going to need to give me an…incentive.”

 

“…Go on.”

 

Lance’s grin is sharp, almost feral. “I don’t want any bullshit about humane killing, I get to do things my way, and I don’t bring back live prisoners for you. I give no shits about you humans, so I’m not protecting any civilians, that’s your problem.”

 

“I figured,” Shiro says, the reminder that Lance really doesn’t see himself as human weighing down on him. What kind of hell did he grow up in on the Galra ships? “Anything else?”

 

“Two of my older sisters were still alive when I escaped,” Lance says, brisk and businesslike. “If any information turns up on their whereabouts, I want a promise they will be rescued and set free, and I mean _free_. They get immunity for anything they did under Galra control.”

 

Shiro blinks, gaping at Lance. Of all things he’d expected him to say, that…wasn’t it. “Wait, really?”

 

“Of course,” Lance sniffs, looking offended. “They are my family. Even a monster can value the lives of their siblings.”

 

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Shiro blurts out, paling as he registers what he said.

 

Even Lance looks taken aback, eyes widening momentarily in surprise before settling once again. “Oh?”

 

“I’ve…read your file.” Shiro admits, glancing down at the floor. “The things you went through…they’d drive any person over the edge.”

 

Lance chirps, looking inordinately pleased. “You’re very sweet, hun. But…” Swinging down, he drops to the floor in front of Shiro once again. “No offense? I’m not a corrupted angel that needs saving. I never grew up with any God to protect me, and I never wanted one. I like what I do, it’s fun. No one controls me, and if I could, I’d cut open every person who works in this building just for something to do. And?” Lance quirks an eyebrow. “I may like you, but if the price was right, I’d probably kill you too…though perhaps not until after I got you to fuck me first.” At Shiro’s horrified expression, he cackles, lifting a hand up to trace the pad of his thumb with his tongue, winking at Shiro. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t, I can see the way you look at me. I’m very good at what I do, you know. The soldiers who raised me made sure of it.”

 

Shiro pales, feeling sick at the implications behind the words. He’d known there was likely more Lance had been through than was in his file, but he’d never imagined…

 

“Now!” Lance says cheerfully, hands on his hips. “Assuming you get Allura to agree to my terms, I’ll talk to Pidge and Hunk for you, get them in a frame of mind to listen to you.” Shiro nods shakily, and he beams. “Good! Oh, and Pidge will be getting her pet bot Rover back! She’s missed him very much!” Behind Shiro, the door opens, and distantly he can hear Keith calling to him. “Ah, and there’s the mullet. Looks like it’s time for you to go. Looking forward to your next visit. Make sure to bring some supplies next time, yeah? I’d love to get a taste of what you’re packing. Now, shoo.”

 

Flushing, Shiro stumbles back, turning swiftly on his heels and striding quickly across the room to where Keith waits, Lance’s unfairly warm laughter trailing after him.

 

“You alright?” Keith asks, expression pinched.

 

“Yeah,” Shiro says shakily.

 

 _God_ , what has he gotten himself into?

 

“Let’s just get out of here.”

 

“I’ll be seeing you, Mr. Shirogane,” Lance’s voice rings out as the door swings shut behind them, predatory yet gleeful. “I think we’ll work well together!”

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr yo.](http://pastel-clark.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["Black"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228687) by [oldmythologies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmythologies/pseuds/oldmythologies)




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